Purple
by Shipperwolf
Summary: It wasn't until he reminded her how utterly ridiculous he could be that she realized how wonderfully normal she felt around him.
1. Chips, Beer and Knowing Looks

Hello all!

My dearest friend and 'adopted' little sister, Sophie (Anonymous003) has requested I dish out more NCIS fanfiction (even though I truly CANNOT come close to comparing to her Tiva-genius), and because she is truly awesome, I am...attempting...something. This. Whatever this is.

To let all know: The title has **nothing** to do with the story. It is my dedication to Sophie for her awesomeness and friendship! This fic is truly for you Sophie Mei!

Also: I own not. Please sue not.

Also again: I apologize in advance for terribly short chapters that may or may not seem to be going anywhere.

Thank you all for reading this Author's Note so far.

I hope it does not discourage you from reading the actual fic below. ;)

* * *

><p>Her hands stilled on the keyboard.<p>

Ziva David sat silent, her eyes hovering into distant nothingness as they stared at the computer screen in front of them.

She clenched her jaw. It was midday, and it was yet another day of silence from her CIA-lover. He had left four months ago on assignment.

Complete separation. Utter silence. No information to be found. Off the grid.

"Confidential Operation".

She bit her lip.

Right.

The small empty jewelry box sat huddled in the back of her desk drawer, practically mocking her. If ever he were to return with something to fill it with aside from a 'promise', what would she do?

If Ray in fact asked her what said box implied….

Would she….

Did she _want_ that? Yes.

With Ray? Maybe.

If not this man who seemed to truly and wholly love her, then who else?

She wanted normalcy.

She wondered if her gentle but secretive CIA agent could promise her _that_.

"Ziva. Movie tonight?"

Her eyes suddenly refocused, darting past the screen and across the bullpen, following the deep and inquisitive voice that snapped her from her pathetic pity spell. Tony DiNozzo sat, elbows propped on his desk, an eyebrow raised inquiringly at her. A small (hopeful?) smile crossed his features.

She felt her chest tighten without warning.

It had been quite awhile since the last time her partner had invited her to join him in his favorite hobby. She remembered how fun it was, sitting in his living room with a bowl of Bar-B-Que chips and a beer, laughing at whatever ridiculous film he had playing on his flat-screen T.V complete with surround-sound to "increase the movie-theatre experience".

She also wondered how many times, in more recent months, E.J had sat in that same spot on his sofa eating from the same bowl…..

Except that E.J had not called Tony in almost two months. The most he had gotten were a few text-messages that seemed discouragingly too plutonic.

Ziva did not want to admit that this knowledge…..relieved her.

He cleared his throat and she realized he was still looking at her, waiting for an answer.

She found her breathing grow shallow when his brow lowered and his eyes suddenly narrowed darkly.

He always looked at her that way….when he seemed to know what she was thinking.

"No….thank you, Tony. Not tonight."

And just like that, she could feel her fingertips again.

They flew across the keyboard and she and Tony did not speak for the rest of the shift.

* * *

><p>More <strong>AN** babble: More to come, and probably in short intervals because I love ending chapters with no warning for no reason. Please don't hate me.


	2. Predators and Puppies

Sorry for the wait-here is chapter two! Another short one, and it may seem a bit random- but this story is mainly just an expression of the adorable-ness of Tony and Ziva ^.^

Nevertheless, hope you all enjoy!

* * *

><p>They were alone, sitting amidst 3-year-old FBI files that had been unceremoniously dumped on them by Gibbs and Fornell, when Tony abruptly looked up from the stack of papers in his lap.<p>

"Did you ever watch any of the Predator movies with me?"

Ziva blinked, her concentration broken by the same sudden, curious tone in his voice that she'd heard only two weeks earlier when he had asked her to watch a movie with him.

He had such a way about him, to so suddenly come up with the most random inquiries at the most random of moments; she often wondered where his mind went when he worked.

A near five-year-old memory came to mind: an older sofa in his living room, cheap wine and a bag of Doritos, the loud bangs of gunfire coming from the television.

"Yes, Tony. I watched one with you…the first, I believe. With the former governor of California in the starring role?"

She kept her face and tone even, not knowing where the question had come from, or where it would lead. Nevertheless, her lips threatened to quirk upward at the look of realization and…._pride_….that crossed his features.

"Yeah, Arnold Schwarzenegger. That was the best one. Couldn't remember if you had seen it or not. Most of the sequels weren't worth two kernels of popcorn, though…." He trailed off, looking back down at the files, fingers fumbling through pages.

Ziva noticed his eyes were not moving, and she could tell he was not reading through any of them. He seemed to be considering something, or….waiting for something?

A minute or two of silence passed between them. Every few seconds she could hear him shift in his seat, rustle the paper in his hands, and a joint pop when he stretched an arm back casually.

Finally, he let loose a quiet sigh that no-one would have heard lest they be listening for it.

Her head shot up to look at him.

Their eyes met, and she noted the look of anticipation in his gaze.

"Okay, Tony. I'll bite. You said _most_ of the sequels were bad. I take it there is one that was decent?"

Her lips betrayed her then, lifting when he grinned at her openly.

"Yeah, the latest one—called "Predators". Came out last year. Saw it then, but recently watched it again, and….well, I liked it better the second time. Noticed something interesting."

He stopped again, waiting for her once more. She sighed to herself. Why not just come out and say all that was on his mind? Why pause and sit staring at her, waiting like an excited puppy wagging his tail?

_No, _she thought,_ just a tad bit more adorable than a puppy._

"What did you notice?"

His mouth opened to speak the moment she finished her question, almost interrupting it entirely.

"The lead female character reminds me of you. She's Israeli, completely badass—although without a certain Ninja appeal—and the more I watched the movie the more I noticed it. You should watch it, see for yourself…."

Again, Tony trailed, and his eyebrow rose just slightly at her.

Yes…definitely more adorable than a puppy.

Ziva had planned on going home once they'd found the information they were looking for in this particular case. She had planned on slipping into a blazing-hot bath, reading a romance novel (or was she more in the mood for horror? Fantasy? She had several to choose from…), and staring at the picture of herself and Ray on her cell phone before going to bed.

But with Ray's consistent silence, and Tony's green gaze penetrating her skull like an invisible tickle in her brain, Ziva felt the need to stop pitying herself and relent to something more enjoyable.

"Do you still have the movie?" The question slipped quietly from her without even a thought, and Tony had cocked his head to the side to hear her.

He smiled again.

"Bought it, actually. It's still in my Blu-ray player."

He was waiting again, and Ziva could practically _see_ his imaginary tail wag in eager anticipation.

"I would not mind seeing it. Would you mind if I—"

"Tonight?" He cut her off, and she smiled then.

"Sure, Tony. Tonight would be fine."

She handed him the next stack of files and they resumed their search.


	3. Good Hearts

**Hey folks!**

Wow...I did not truly realize how long I left this story hanging. My apologies (especially to you, dear Sophie!)!

Here is the final chapter. Hope you all enjoy ^.^

Thanks for reading!

* * *

><p>Lights flashed and guns blazed.<p>

Blood splattered, screams followed.

The night was filled with growls and wails and yelling and….

Slurping?

Ziva snapped from her daze in front of Tony's television.

Craning her head just slightly, she could see him at the far end of the sofa, socked feet moving absently as they sat propped on the table in front of them. He downed the rest of his beer, his lips pursing against the rim of the bottle and creating the unintentional sound that practically interrupted every other noise in the room.

She smiled when his eyes darted to her, widening as he brought the bottle from his mouth.

"Eh…sorry." He eyed the empty bottle she straddled between her legs. "You want another?"

Ziva blinked when he moved to pause the movie and lean towards her, head nodding in the direction of the kitchen.

"Sure, if you are getting up to get another for yourself, that is."

Tony nodded again, and, without warning, reached forward to pluck the bottle from between her legs. Ziva jolted, hand flying at his wrist and catching it just as the bottle became suspended in mid-air between them.

She could feel her eyes widening, staring into his own as the godawful tingle of physical awareness pooled into her being. And set her muscles coiling.

For a second (or two, or three…she truly wasn't really counting), they remained frozen, eyes locked in a silent battle.

Ziva felt her throat dry out and realized her mouth had been hanging open.

She watched as his eyes darkened again, and she knew this was one of those moments….

Where she desperately needed him to pull back, crack a joke, and pretend nothing had happened at all.

And, as sure as she knew Tony, he did just that.

A flood of relief washed through her tightening chest when he grinned at her suddenly.

"Looks like those ninja skills haven't completely disappeared, huh?"

Ziva felt movement, and looked down to find his wrist twisting in her vice-like grasp.

She chuckled, nervously (_nervously?_).

Released his arm and slinked backward into the cushions.

"I suppose they haven't. You should know not to move so hastily with me, Tony. I could snap a bone, yes?"

He stood, fingers flexing against the empty beer in his hand. Nodding sagely, he performed a mock bow as he backed away toward the kitchen.

"Of course. What was I thinking?"

* * *

><p>The movie continued, and Ziva found herself sipping on her third beer with ease.<p>

She had forgotten how comfortable it was to curl into Tony's sofa, how casual it made her feel. As if NCIS was something of a memory. As if she were simply a person, the same as any other, spending time with a friend and enjoying the wonderful world of cinema without the outside concerns of murders and suicides and missing persons.

She had leaned forward at some point, gazing at the screen as a quiet moment gave pause to the intensity of the alien-filled shoot-fest. The characters sat huddled, waiting, and Ziva had found herself moving her head slightly to better hear the woman (that Tony had insisted reminded him of her) as she spoke to the lead character.

She felt a shift beside her, and darted her eyes to the side to find Tony stretching his arms before reaching forward to snatch the bowl of pretzels from the table.

Her attention was pulled away from the movie momentarily when he unceremoniously crammed several into his mouth at once.

Munching loud enough to break the sound barrier, he held the bowl out to her and attempted to speak through the half-chewed mush:

"Wan' slome?"

A grin peeled across her face and she giggled at him.

She had also forgotten how much Tony made her laugh.

* * *

><p>The film ended with Ziva's blood rushing slightly.<p>

The Israeli woman (Isabelle, she recalled) had been rescued by the stoic, battle-hardened lead character, and said hero had engaged the alien antagonist and triumphed.

And the two—the only humans left alive—were thereby stranded on the planet they had landed on at the beginning of the movie, fated to await another onslaught of Predators.

Ziva felt her skin twitch and she whipped her head at Tony when the credits began to roll.

"Wait…that is it?"

Tony reached over to turn on a lamp near the sofa.

"Yeah. Kind of leaves things open for another, don't you think?"

The half-eaten pretzel in her hand paused on its journey to her mouth.

"I suppose it does. Surely they must get off the planet at some point. They cannot just keep fighting the aliens over and over again. They wouldn't survive."

She moved to hand Tony the three empty beer bottles from the table and stood as he walked towards the kitchen again.

His voice carried into the den, and she caught his hint of excitement.

"Exactly. I'm itching to see the title 'MORE PREDATORS' pop up on a commercial sometime soon."

Again Ziva could not fight the laugh that ripped from her throat.

"I do not think they would call the sequel _that_." She paused, and walked into the kitchen to find him disposing of their accumulated trash. "So….the woman…"

She smiled wryly when he jumped and then grew very still.

"Uh…what about her?"

"You said, she reminded you of me. And yes, she was Israeli. Yes, she had military experience. Are those the only reasons?"

Ziva leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, somewhat bemused at Tony's sudden unease. She watched as he polished off his last beer and swallowed thickly.

Green eyes met hers and held them.

She felt her chest tighten again.

"No…she was…courageous. And…eh…skilled. And….."

He fidgeted with the bottle in his hand before setting it on the countertop.

"She had seen war, and death, and even brought a good bit of it herself."

Ziva felt her jaw clench at his words, and strained her ears upon realizing he was practically whispering. His eyes narrowed and hers followed suit.

She could feel her brow furrow in anticipation and confusion.

"But she loved people. She loved life. And she valued it. Not just for herself, but for others. It was one of the side-stories to the movie. She taught that concept to the guy…eh, Royce. She taught him that it was okay to care about other people."

It was only when she released a heavy breath that Ziva realized she had been holding it. Her heart had begun to thud in her chest and she wondered when Tony had become so sincere…

She saw him smile then, gentle and assuring.

"Even though she was a trained killer, she had a good heart. That's what reminded me of you."

She broke eye contact with him, his words seeping into her brain and settling there in a bundle of warmth.

Her head ducked of its own accord and her smile betrayed her.

"Thank you, Tony. That is…very sweet of you."

A moment of silence fell between them, and Tony shuffled in his spot as Ziva stood stock-still in the doorway.

The sound of a chair scraping the floor had her looking up to see him pulling one away from his kitchen table, flipping it around to sit backwards on it.

"Yeah, well…." His eyebrows rose at her and he grinned. "I can be a nice guy sometimes, see?"

And just like that, her muscles relaxed.

Her chest settled.

Her heart calmed.

The old silly, charming, slightly narcissistic Tony DiNozzo was back, rocking forward in his chair and looking much like a five-year old who was practically _asking_ to break his nose on the linoleum below.

Teeth flashed at her and her entire body grew warm.

She had most certainly forgotten how normal Tony made her feel.

"We should watch another movie sometime soon."

The words escaped before she could even command them.

He stopped rocking and met her gaze, his smile softening along with his eyes.

"Yeah. We should."


End file.
